The bridge of lightVerrill, A. Hyatt (Alpheus Hyatt)
Science
The bridge of light
Verrill, A. Hyatt (Alpheus Hyatt)
Adventure stories; Central America -- Fiction; Mayas -- Fiction; Science fiction
In vain I tried--now that she had expressed her willingness and desire
to go--to dissuade her. I pointed out all the difficulties, the
dangers. I tried to picture her life among strangers, aliens. I dilated
on the dreary winters, the bitter cold of the north. But the more I
said the more--woman like--she was determined to go. She would enjoy
it, she was sure. With me to love her and to be loved by her she could
be happy anywhere. Hardships, dangers meant nothing. Had she not been
through far worse dangers, through greater sufferings? She wanted to
see all the marvelous things I had related to her. She wanted to dwell
among my people, to speak my language, to see the oceans. And after all
I could not blame her. All her life--short as it was--had been spent in
this one valley. All she knew, all she could imagine of the world was
what she could see, hear and know in Mictolan. Beyond the valley was
another world, a vast, unknown, undreamed of universe, as fascinating,
as filled with real and imaginary wonders as another planet would have
been to me.
* * * * *
I WOULD have set out that very day had my arm been fully recovered. At
any moment, at any time the flames might disappear, the bridge might
vanish. But that was a chance that had to be taken. To start off with
a bad arm would have been more than foolhardy even on an ordinary
expedition into the jungles. And to set forth on such a perilous,
desperate venture as ours, with the handicap of a partly disabled arm
would have been nothing short of suicidal. So, resigning myself to
fate, I waited for the days to pass until my wounds were fully healed
and my arm was again strong and whole. Each morning at dawn I gazed,
half-fearfully, at the temple top; a dozen times a day my eyes turned
to it; often in the night I would steal from Itza’s side and peer into
the soft effulgent light to assure myself the flames were still there.
As Nohul Voh had said, the wounds healed in three days--his knowledge
of herbs, drugs and cures was profound indeed, but it was ten days
before full strength had returned to my lacerated arm.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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